


Bandom Oneshots!

by i_write_absolute_trash778



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blowjobs, Bondage, Crack, Dick Pics, Dirty Talk, Dom!Frank - Freeform, Dom!Gerard, Dom!Josh, Dom!Mikey - Freeform, Dom!Patrick, Dom!Pete, Even more first kisses, F/F, F/M, Famous Last Words - Song, First Blowjob, First Kiss, High School, High School AU, Implied Smut, Jock!Josh, Kissing (ofc), Leather Kink, M/M, Making Out, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sex Toys, Sexting, Sexual Tension, Sibling Incest, Smut, Soccer, Sub!Frank, Sub!Pete, Sub!Tyler, Waycest (sOrry), joshler - Freeform, marriage kink, social outcast!tyler, songfics, sub!Patrick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-08-04 05:11:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_absolute_trash778/pseuds/i_write_absolute_trash778
Summary: A selection of oneshots from the Emo Trinity (+ Twenty-One Pilots)!This was requested and I've added That Sounds Like A You Problem and Shut Up And Let Me See Your Jazz Hands. More to come, please request!!





	1. That Sounds Like A You Problem (Frank/Gerard)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters 1 and 2 have separate works, but they are also posted here so I actually have some content.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank can't sleep. There's only one way to fix it.
> 
>  
> 
> Rating: Explicit  
> Warnings: blowjobs, kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First smut!!

Frank slipped into Gerard's room. Though it was two in the morning, he was wide awake. He'd been wide awake for quite awhile, nursing a horrific hard-on. But his efforts had been for naught. He'd been watching porn with the volume off for an hour already, and he was getting desperate. He needed to get off, and try as he might, he just couldn't get Gerard's face out of his mind. It was nothing new, to be completely honest, but it was a tad disturbing. Gerard was his party pal, his brother, to a point. And Frank was hard for him. 

But now he was in Gerard's dark room. At two in the morning. With his cock extremely stiff. If the lights flipped on right now, he'd be dead.  _Super_ dead. So he looked down at Gerard's sleeping form. He was twisted in his sheets, muttering things under his breath. And of course, of  _course,_ Gerard had to be sleeping naked. Tonight, of all nights. So when he turned towards Frank in his sleep, he exposed his cock. Frank's breath hitched. Damn. But he  _was_ huge, wasn't he? And he was getting harder as the cold air outside hit his exposed body. Now Frank was even more turned on.  _Fuck you, Gerard._ Then he hissed. That was exactly what  _he_ wanted to do. So he crept up to the bedside, looking down at his sleeping bandmate. Before he knew what he was doing, he sank to his knees, his eyes directly level with Gerard's erection. He licked his lips nervously. What the hell are you doing, Frank? Stop staring at your friend's dick! Go back to your room! But Frank didn't listen to his inner thoughts, not now, not under these circumstances. His breath fanned across the delicate skin before him. God, Gerard was truly a work of art. 

He didn't realize quickly enough that his friend was stirring, slowly waking. 

"Frank? What the hell are you doing?" his sleepy voice sent shivers down Frank's spine. He met Gerard's questioning gaze, then dropped it. He was staring at his dick again, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Then he noticed it. Gerard was hard, too. So Frank got a devious idea. Gerard swung his legs around so Frank was between them, looking up at the dark-haired singer. Slowly, a smirk, a devilish smirk crossed his lips. Almost as if he was anticipating Frank's train of thought.

"Well, you're thinking so damn hard about it, why don't you do it?" Gerard whispered. His eyes had darkened since he'd woken, which made shivers go down Frank's spine. "Come on, Iero," he coaxed. 

Frank smirked. "Are you  _begging,_ Mr. Way?" Gerard rolled his eyes.

"Just suck my cock, Frank, we both know no one will get any sleep until then." He winked.

"We also both know that's not the only reason." 

"Stop fucking stalling," hissed Gerard, and grabbed the guitarist, smashing his lips against his. "Fuck." 

"No," Frank winked. "Fuck  _me,_ " and Gerard growled, forcing Frank's head between his knees. Frank grinned against his cock. When Gerard's grip relaxed, he pulled back, taking his erection into his mouth. As soon as he did so, Gerard's breath hitched. Frank hollowed his cheeks to accommodate the singer's sheer size and swirled his tongue around the head of Gerard's cock, tasting the salty tang of precum. He didn't want his hands unoccupied, however, so he reached up to fondle Gerard's balls. He let out a broken cry as Frank sucked hard, grinning. This was going much better than expected. 

Gerard's cock twitched in his mouth, and so Frank stopped cupping his balls. He groaned, and carded his hands through Frank's hair.

"F-fuck, Frankie-" he rasped. "I-I'm about to-" 

"Go ahead," Frank gasped. And Gerard compeletely let loose, going limp against the pillows as ropes of his cum flooded Frank's mouth. After a few seconds of stunned silence, Frank looked at himself. There was a wet spot on his pants. 

"Fuck you, Gee, I fucking cummed myself." he said, and the devious little shit grinned. 

"That sounds like a you problem." 


	2. Shut Up And Let Me See Your Jazz Hands (Frank/Gerard)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the set of the "Na Na Na" music video, Frank has a very uncomfortable thing to deal with. It's even more uncomfortable when Gerard shows up.

 just cannot get over how good Gee's ass looks in those leather pants. I can't. 

It's wrong to think this about your best friend, your bandmate, sure. But so many others have been coming out, to their friends, their family, even people they don't know. And I admire their courage. I just can't seem to get mine up enough to tell Gee how I feel. And I don't have a crush- God, I hate that word- on Mikey or Ray or any other person we've worked with, even looking sexy as hell. I don't get worked up over them. I get worked up over  _him_. And it's driving me insane. 

So when Gerard calls a water break, I grab a water bottle from the cooler next to the main camera, the standstill one, and sit down in an uncomfortable plastic chair. To conceal the sudden erection I've got, I hold the bottle gingerly above my hips. It works well enough, seeing that no one notices the odd way I've got it. Thank the stars. That's when Gee bends over to grab some water as well, and the pants stretch against the globe of his ass, showing off his of-course-absolutely-flawless physique. 

Okay, so maybe it's not flawless, but I think it is. I think it's fucking sexy, and- And Ray's tapping me, trying to get my attention. Shit. Have I been staring at Gee this whole time? Shit shit shit. The set's gone quiet, Mikey, Ray, and Gerard are looking at me, a tad confused. 

"Sorry, I lost my train of thought. Carry on," I gesture with the water bottle, forgetting what I was hiding. I look down at my lap and panic for a second, lowering my bottle quicker than necessary. The conversation moves on, with the Way brothers playfully debate over whose costume looks better. I almost want to say, "No offense, Mikey, but Gerard's hot and his ass is hot and his hair is hot and his this that and the other is hot so... yeah," but I hold my tongue. Ray uses this time to whisper in my ear.

"You popped one, Frankie," he whispers, a bit of understanding shining in his eyes. 

I flush. "No."

"You did. I saw." I flush again. "So who's the lucky gal? The director's intern? She's pretty cute, I don't blame you," Ray continues. 

"No, not her."

"Then the costume girl? She's hot too," Ray winks over at the director's intern that's looking over at us. 

"No, not her."

"If you must know, it's g _uy,_ not  _gal,_ " I rephrase my answer. 

"Oh," Ray says, nodding. 

"Hey, Frankie, Mikey thinks his red leather ass looks better than mine. Can you tell him off for me  _so I don't slap him?_ " Gee interrupts, staring lasers into Mikey's forehead.

"Don't give him the stare of death, Gee, you'll scare the shit out of the prop girl," the guitarist covers for me.

"Well, then, what do you think?" the red-haired singer demands. 

"I think you look just a tad better, but Mikey's got that red jacket working for him," Ray says. "What do you think, Frank?" 

"Same," I shrug, staring into my water. It's worse to gaze into than a beer. I need a beer.

"You okay, Frank?" Mikey asks, looking concerned. "You just don't seem like yourself today." 

"I'm fine. I'm going to use the bathroom, I'll be right back," I say, and excuse myself, leaving the bottle where it is. I'm just glad for an excuse to leave, if only for a moment.

 

I sit on the toilet seat, my head in my hands. I can't fucking take it! Every time we practice, or go out together, if Gerard's wearing his usual tight, leathery shit, I pop a boner. That's how it is. When did it start, though? I've kissed Gerard before, on stage, backstage, I kissed him on the cheek during the MTV music video for "I'm Not Okay", but never did it feel as awkward as I feel. My heart is thumping and my dick is aching. Fuck my life. 

There's only one way to get rid of this. 

I unzip the pants, the metal of the zipper feeling cold in my fingers. I take out my cock. Jesus, liberation feels amazing! I reach for the sink, wet my hand, and slide it down my cock, letting out a groan. Shit. Too loud. They'll hear. If they do I'm dead. Then I realize I don't have my gloves on, and they might get this done faster. so I dig in the pocket of my jacket to find one for my right hand. Once I do, I wet it a bit too, and slide it back down my cock. Shit. That feels amazing! I grunt a bit, and buck my hips, essentially fucking my hand for a decent amount of time, my mind in a lust-filled haze as I do so. I just wish it was Gee's hand on my cock instead of my own... 

To get this done quickly, I stand wobbly to my feet and hold my dick over the sink, panting as I do so. I graze my balls with the tips of my fingers and I'm gone. With a short, quiet cry of "Gerard", I spill into the sink. 

I give myself a moment to recover. 

 

When I exit the bathroom, Gee is right outside. 

"What the fuck, Gee?" I demand. I'm quaking on the inside. If Gee heard, I'll die. I'll do the dirty deed myself. Dead. If he did, how will he react to me saying his name when I came? 

"That was hot, Frankie," he murmurs, and I erupt into new levels of nervousness I didn't know I had. "Calling my name when you came? Bold move. If it had been anyone else but me..." He purrs, trailing his gloved hand down my cheek. He leans in and pressed a heated kiss to my mouth. I gasp, opening my mouth so his tongue can slip in. He presses me against the wall just outside the bathroom and grinds his clothed crotch against mine, leaving me with another erection. His tongue and mine swirl around each other in some intricate dance, and then... 

"Slut," he whispers in my ear, and swiftly leaves to go back to Mikey and Ray. 

_Fuck you._  

 


	3. Famous Last Words (Frank Iero/Mikey Way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a request by MEEEE cause my laptop with the other drafts of chapters is missing... :( so I can't publish there now. BUT this self-requested update is a short fluff to tide you over until I get the smutty smut smut out for Frerard! And also... this bitch be angsty. You have been warned
> 
> * REWRITTEN *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REQUESTSSSS

_Now I know_

_That I can't make you stay_

_But where's your heart_

_But where's your heart_

_But where's your_

 

Mikey Way has heard a lot, seen a lot, and experienced a lot. He has also gone through it way too fast for his liking. One note, and the song's over. One look, and a whole year of conversations are exchanged. But there's one conversation he knows he needs to have. And not just through looks on stage. He needs to think with his brain, not his dick, and get this done. After all, it's been six years. Six years since Mikey Way met Frank Iero. Six years since he met the most extraordinary person he knew, and the best guitarist, in his opinion, that he'd ever heard. Fuck Jimi Hendrix, fuck everyone. He only thought of Frank that way, as the best.

 

Frank Iero has heard a lot of bullshit in his life. He's seen so much and yet he hasn't seen the one sight in front of him for years, just waiting,  _begging_ to be touched, corrupted, manhandled and kept so no one else could have it. 

Him, really.

Yes, Frank has been in love with Mikey Way for many years. The Way brother always seemed so calm, so cool, and yet on the inside a flurry of creative excitement, just like his brother, Gerard. And Frank couldn't blame him. Jesus fuck, they had been part of the best post-hardcore band ever. And how had Frank not tackled  _Mikey_ yet? How hadn't he kissed him onstage like he'd done to Gerard? 

 

_And I know_

_There's nothing I can say_

_To change that part_

_To change that part_

_To change_

 

And that was where it had started, the fights. The ever steadily growing ones between he and Mikey, never wanting to hurt the older man, but desperate to know why he was so angry. Because it would happen all the time, too. Where Frank would kiss Gerard onstage, and after, Mikey would be stone cold. Not speaking to anyone, and when he did, he'd be curt and his tone would be grating, tense. And once the parties ended, the fights began.

"Mikey, what are you so mad about?" he'd ask, hoping Mikey would finally tell him. 

"What am  _I_ so mad about? What am  _I_ so mad about, Frank? You don't know? You honestly don't know? Or you don't give a shit, is that it?" the bassist would snap, walking out the door to his own room, leaving Frank alone. And on those nights, Frank definitely agreed with the statement "Boys cry". They sure as hell did if the one person they loved more than anyone else was unwilling to love them in return. Until after one fateful show. It had been tough, Gee had been nervous, Ray hadn't talked for awhile, Mikey was just disagreeable. Frank had never loved him more. And when they reconvened backstage after the show, Mikey had done what was just the inevitable. He'd pressed Frank against the cold metal of the amplifiers and, fingers digging into the younger man's hips, showed, rather aggressively, that he was dominant. He had to be dominant, Frank wouldn't have had it any other way. And Mikey had pulled him close and delved his tongue into Frank's mouth. 

"Now do you see?" he'd asked Frank, still cradling him. "Do you see what I get so frustrated over? You kiss Gee and I-I can't, Frankie. I want you to be  _mine,_ not Gee's."

"I see," Frank had said. "I want to be yours too."

 

_ So many _

 

_ Bright lights that cast a shadow _

 

_ But can I speak? _

 

_ Well, is it hard understanding _

 

_ I'm incomplete? _

  
  


The writing of a song is much harder than anyone thinks. And thinking is hard. Harder than anyone knows, and Mikey knows this for a fact. Kissing Frank back there was one of the hardest things he's ever done. Not the kissing. It was amazing, everything and more Mikey was wishing, praying, fucking his hand for. He knew he wanted more of it. The song that reminds Mikey most of Frank is  "Famous Last Words". It was easily one of the hardest songs to write and perform, partially because of how truthfully it spoke. It sounded like words from the heavens, with Gee being the prophet lending these speeches to anyone and everyone. Mikey just wished they didn't have to hurt so much. 

The fight to end all fights started like this. 

"Mikey, you can't just get angry whenever Gee and I interact onstage. You know I love you, isn't that enough?" Frank would ask, and Mikey wished he could answer in the way he so wanted to. Instead he said,

"Why don't you just stay away from him?" 

"Oh, so you're trying to isolate me from my friends? Fuck off!" Frank yelled, and Mikey immediately felt bad, but Frank stormed off, probably to find Ray to yell to. 

If only it wasn't this hard to tell someone you loved them. 

 

Frank knew it wasn't Mikey. He'd always been protective. Of his food, friends, everything important but Frank had never known him to be  _possessive._ He'd never known Mikey to be this harsh. But maybe he was right, they should stay friends. If this was how controlling the bassist could be. 

Frank would miss the poor bastard, love him, even, but he couldn't live like this. 

He couldn't live controlled. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVEN MORE REQUESTSSSSSSSS
> 
> AND if you want a second bit to this PLEASE TELL ME I WILL BE HAPPY TO WRITE IT


	4. Dick Pic (Frank/Gerard)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request:  
> I actually can request? :D  
> Alright, how about Frerard fic with marriage kink or something with robot? ^-^
> 
> Warnings: Anal sex, anal fingering, sexting, the inappropriate use of FaceTime, master/slave, dom/sub, dom!Frank, sub!Gerard, marriage kink
> 
> This one's also where Frank and Gee are married lmao BUT I decided we needed marriage smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bitch be kinky. 
> 
> ALSO! DecimusYna, I'm sorry I couldn't get this out faster :3 But hope you like!

I woke up horny.

I did! I, Gerard Way, woke up horny. Again. And Frank isn't here, he's with Mikey on some trip to the mall. The fucking mall! Who goes to a fucking mall at ten in the morning? Not me! And I thought Frank was the same way. Obviously, as is the case with assuming things about Frank, I was wrong. My husband is a bastard. But back to my story.

I woke up with a raging hard-on. And Frank wasn't home, so he couldn't help me get rid of it. And yes, he helps with these uncomfortable situations because I sleep naked. Yep, the rumors are true. So I had to work things out for myself. I stretched, and my feet slipped out from under the blanket. I shuddered at how cold it was out of bed, but I needed coffee. Right now. ASAP. With that being said, I got up, checked the coffee maker and saw that Frank had got it ready for me, so I flipped the switch, and shivered as the warm, live-saving liquid trickled from the maker like cum from Frank's dick when I sucked it.

Whoa! I needed to stop thinking like this. My dick was leaking pre-cum onto the linoleum and I was sure as hell not cleaning it. I'm a fucking rockstar. I deserve the right to drip cum on the floor! Fuck off, Building Services!

So I grabbed the cup from the counter and ran back to bed. I slid under the covers shivering once my body hit the still-warm sheets. As I sipped the coffee, I grabbed my phone and decided to do something about my raging erection. I decided to text- no, sext Frank. Great idea, huh? I still had the pick-up lines that I had wanetd to use for so long, and now I could actually use them. Thinking about Frank with a boner in Giant was both hilarious and extremely arousing. I laughed quietly. Let's do this.

**morning frank**

_Hi, gee_

**what are you and mikey up to?**

_buying food_

_mikey says hi_

**hi mikey**

_so gee_

**yeah**

_are you still in bed?_

**getting frisky, are we mr iero?**

_no_

**you sure**

_yes_

 

I grinned. This was the perfect time.

 

**if i was with you right now where would you want me to touch you?**

_gee i am warning you now i can and will come home and fuck you into the mattress. stop trying to sext me in target_

**where?**

_fuck you_

**where frank answer**

_my dick where else_

**hey frankie**

_what do you want now_

**i’m trying to sleep, but i cant stop thinking about all the things you could do to me if you were here**

The thing that would seal this deal is a dick pic. So let's do this. I shoved down the blankets and aimed my iPhone's camera at my leaking, rock hard dick. I licked my lips, and sent the picture.

_gee i hope you realize you're killing me_

**im killing me too**

_fuck_

**i need a bathroom**

_facetime me_

My phone buzzed with a FaceTime request from Frank. I hit the "Accept" button and as it connected, I threw my head back against the headboard, opening my mouth and gasping as if I'd just orgasmed.

"Gee, fucking Christ." Frank panted, and aimed the camera down at his dick. It's the whole package too, and I wished I had it in me. I sounded like a porn star but it's the truth. Things happen when you're desperately horny.

"Oh, my God, Frank, touch your dick, please, Frankie," I begged, but Frank cut me off.

"No, no, babe, I'm in control this time," he hissed. "You fucking whore, sexting me at Target. You touch your dick, and let me watch. Damn, I wish I was there-" I watched as he stroked his cock. I let him see my cock, moaning wantonly as I fucked my own hand. I bucked my hips and stuttered.

"F-Frankie, I-I'm gonna-" I keened, feeling the world tip on its axis as fire burns low in my abdomen.

"No, you aren't going to cum yet, you're going to wait until Mikey and I get home," Frank growled. "You're going to wait, slut." He bucked into his hands and came in front of me, the bastard. Then he smirked at me through the camera, and said,

"I'll be 15 minutes, maybe more, love," he said, his voice deliciously dark. "If you cum before I get home, I'll know. And you'll get absolutely nothing." He ended the call.

Fuck!

 

20 minutes have passed since the end of that call, and I have almost came three different times. I keep fucking my hand until I reach my peak, only to slide back down into sexual frustration.

"Fuck..." I wailed into the pillow as the door opened, and Frank strode in. He looked down on me. His dark hair fell into his face, shadowing his equally dark eyes. Damn I love this man.

"Frankie," I moaned. "Please, Frankie, can I cum?"

"Ah, ah, slut, what are you calling me?" he sneered.

"Please, sir, may I cum?" I begged again. He walked around me, grabbing a bottle of lube from his nightstand. He walked back over to my side. He thought a bit. Then a devilish smirk spread across his face.

"No." I keened in protest.

"Silence, or do I have to gag you?"

"No, sir."

"Then don't talk." I did as he said, and kept silent. He set down the open bottle of lube down on my nightstand, and opened the drawer. Inside were the ropes he used for bondage. I shivered and tried to rub my thighs together against my dick.

"No, no, no," Frank murmured. He tied my right leg to the end of the bed and did the same for the left one. I writhed and let out a desperate cry.

"Oh, the whore's desperate, isn't he?" Frank grinned. "He just wants a big cock in his ass, doesn't he? Beg, slut."

"Please, Master, I'm so hard for you, please, sir, please fuck me!" I wailed, bucking my hips.

"Little whore needs to behave," Frank hissed. "Stay still or I'll leave you tied up here. Behave. This is the last time I'll tell you." I fell silent, and the dark-haired guitarist grabbed the lube. Moving down to my ass, he spread my cheeks. "Now you know the safe word," he said. I nodded, and withheld a yelp as he spread the cold lube around my hole. He slowly wormed his index finger into my anus. A tiny bit of pain flashed through me, but pleasure was soon found as he found a rhythm at which it was pleasurable to fuck me with his finger.

"Another, please," I mewled pitifully.

"You want another?" He sneered again. "Fine, have another." He pushed another one in, and I cried out. It felt blissful as he rocked his hand into my hole. As soon as he felt I was stretched enough, he pulled his fingers out. "Are you ready for me?" 

"Yes, Master," I stuttered. "Fuck me, please!" Frank smirked. Unzipping his jeans, Frank revealed his rock hard cock. I moaned wantonly, wanting that inside me. He positioned himself and thrust inside me fully. I screamed as he set a vicious pace. He usually only fucked me from behind, but today was different. Today I was getting my punishment. And as he finished and came inside me, as I went limp, as everything cut to white noise as I came, the only thought I had was- 

_So fucking worth it._

"Good fucking whore," Frank wheezed. "So fucking good..." I smiled weakly. I could already feel myself becoming lost to sleep. 

"Thanks, Frankie." 

"Stop sexting me in Target, Gee." 

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REQUEST!!!!!


	5. Famous Last Words Pt. 2 (Frank Iero/Mikey Way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A follow-up to Chapter 3's self request. And yeah. This be angsty.

_He couldn't live controlled._

* * *

 

Mikey lies awake that night, going over every word, every phrase he's said to Frank since the kiss backstage. He knows what he's done wrong, he's known even before he had started overthinking it. Did Frank care about him? Did Frank love him? Maybe. Did Mikey love him? Of course, Mikey agreed. More than most things he knew. But if Frank didn't care, nothing was worth it. Nothing.

Gee struts into his room while he's listening to random bands, not giving a shit what he was listening to.

"Aw, damn, is that Nickelback?" he rolls his eyes.

"I guess."  
"You fuckin' hate Nickelback. I fuckin' hate Nickelback."

"I guess so, yeah."

"Mikey, what's wrong?"

And Mikey wants to tell him. He wants to tell him how much he loved Frank, what he felt and how he wanted to go about loving him. But Frank is Gee's best friend. How would he react? So the younger Way brother keeps his mouth shut.

"Nothing, just having an off day. I'm fine."

"That better be what it is," Gee bounces up off Mikey's bed. "We've got a show tonight." Mikey inwardly sighs. A show. Fuck really? Now, in the midst of his internal turmoil?

Shit.

 

Show time comes, and Mikey's still wearing his Green Day tee and black jeans, wiggling his bare toes absentmindedly, still concentrating on his dilemma with Frank. He hopes that he'll get a chance to say something to Frank, at least before the show. Otherwise it's 2 hours of stewing in his own juices. At least the fans might keep him occupied. So he grabs his bass, even though there's barely an hour before start time. He strums, humming a wordless tune he's never heard before. He strums a D chord, then an F, and each one sets a pang in his heart he can't erase. So to erase it, he begins playing Famous Last Words.

Bad decision.

Every word.

_A life that's so demanding_

Every phrase.

_I get so weak_

Every thought.

_A love that's so demanding_

Fuck, Frank!

_I can't speak_

 

Frank can hear the bass line, steady and repeating, rumbling through the hall even before he turns the corner. He knows it's Mikey, he's lived too long with him not to know. And he wishes that he didn't know, that he could go in Mikey's room and have just one excuse to see him. Just one. But Frank's got to cut it off. It's like an addiction- You can't live with Mikey, you can't live without him. But Frank goes anyway. He just can't stay away, it's like Mikey's a magnet. So, leaning outside the room, having a smoke- when did he light up? Listening to the thrum of the bass, murmuring the words to Famous Last Words. When the bass stops, when he hears footsteps, he turns and heads back to his room.

Was he afraid that Mikey would see him? Was he afraid that, somehow, Mikey would judge him for it? Or was it... He just didn't want to see him now. But the show's on in 10 and people are freaking out so Frank needs to find Gee and Ray and get onstage. Mikey? Well, Frank trusts him enough to get his ass onstage when it needs to be.

When they bounce onstage like happy bunnies on steroids, the crowd screams and cheers, filling Frank with the feeling of worth. It's always been there, it's always been that way. That sense of worth is like a drug. You need it, or you wither without it.

And Frank almost stops playing when Mikey crosses the stage and sort of leans on Frank, not looking at him, but all of a sudden apprehension takes control. He just looks down at the strings and rips out the chords that he needs to rip through, and practically ignores Mikey. And after a few tense moments, he leaves. And the sense of worth whooshes out of the guitarist, it's like it was never there. But with a heavy heart, he continues to play.

 

After the show, I have to go find Frank. So when we get backstage, I usher Gee and Ray along so I can talk to him.

"Frank?" I whisper. He shakes his head, continuing to walk back to the dressing rooms. "Frank, listen, please?" it comes out as a question and he turns, sighing as he looks up at me.

"Mikey, I can't do this. I can't live where you're trying to keep me away from Gee and Ray because you're worried they'll, what? Steal me or something?" Mikey gapes. He can't speak. 

"Frank, I-" 

"Is that it? Is that it? Because guess what, you bastard! I love you! And Gee or Ray couldn't steal me away even if they tried their hardest! Because  _I want you!_ Are you happy now?" he yells. 

"I love you too." he whispers and kisses Frank, a sweet kiss, yet a passionate kiss in which he tries to convey every feeling he's ever had for the guitarist. It's finally done. He's complete. 

_Honey, if you stay I'll be forgiven_

_Nothing you could say could stop me going home_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> request please?


	6. I'd Live For You, Only You (Tyler Joseph/Josh Dun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-requested one, where it's just angst angst angst!! (sorry) Tyler Joseph is my spirit animal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: swearing (always!)

_I just wanna stay in the sun where I find_  
_I know it's hard sometimes_

He sings these words with such a passion. This song always brings tears to his eyes when he listens to it, or sings it. Because these lyrics of his are painfully true. And it all started a few weeks ago when his world turned upside down. When he started to think of his best friend ever, Josh Dun as more than his best friend. When he finally,  _finally_ fell apart. 

_Pieces of peace in the sun's peace of mind_  
_I know it's hard sometimes_

Sometimes he knew exactly what he was saying, but other times it just came out, like a river overflowing its banks. Tyler Joseph without a filter can be equally hilarious yet painful at the same time.  This song, this ride of his, was easily shit that just flowed from his mouth that was lies. Pure lies. All the "I'm fine" moments, all the sidelong glances that no one but him seemed to notice. The final end to this road would have to end with Josh, just as it had began.

_Yeah, I think about the end just way too much_  
_But it's fun to fantasize_

Ride was his song.  _His_ song. It was the one where he could sing with as much raw emotion and love as possible and not have people speculate. There had been rumors, hardcore shippers, and yet? Nothing had happened. Josh seemed blissfully unaware. And thank God that Josh was behind the drum kit during all the concerts. Because he might have pulled a Frerard moment out of his emo pocket and kissed Josh, long, hard, just like he so dreamed about. And the drummer would never know. Not a chance, didn't stand a chance.

 _He_ didn't stand a chance. 

_Oh, oh_  
_I'm falling so I'm taking my time on my ride_

He was falling, just like the song he wrote said. When Josh had told him about dating Debby Ryan, on the outside, he'd been all "yeah she's hot" but on the inside? He was having a fucking heart attack. Debby Ryan?  _Debby Ryan?_ When the one who really loved him was right next to him, comforted him through the breakup, helped him through everything, somehow Josh didn't know. He didn't  _know?_

_I'd live for you_  
_And that's hard to do_  
_Even harder to say_  
_When you know it's not true_

 

I've never been that good at being subtle. Never. But if I'm good at one thing besides drumming, it's reading emotions. Dating Debby had been a really great time for me, and when I told Tyler, well, you could see the utter confusion and hurt written plainly across his beautiful face for an instant!- And then it was gone. Gone, replaced by a fake smile and a "dude, you really picked one". That's when I felt it. A slowly opening hole when it had been so filled earlier. And I wanted nothing more than to stand up, slap Tyler, and ask him why. 

Why? Why do I feel this way about you? Why can't I ever be happy if it isn't you I wake up with?

And so every day I curse him and the world for so easily muddling my mind. Fuck you, Tyler Joseph. You and your stunning way with words.

_There are people back home which are talking to you_  
_But then you ignore them still_  
_All these questions they're forming like_  
_Who would you live for?_  
_Who would you die for?_  
_And would you ever kill?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff  
> fluff  
> fluff  
> REQUEST!! I AM SERIOUSLY TIRED OF HAVING TO SELF-REQUEST MY OWN SHIT


	7. Calm Down (Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, pretty fluffy with just a touch of angst and just written because hey guess what I'M BORED AGAIN!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gay band fluff is the best kind of fluff

"Fuck this, Andy. I can't- I can't even with you right now. Like, who's the bassist here? Who said you could write the fucking bass line without me?" Pete was absolutely furious. "You are the goddamn drummer, you write  _drum parts,_ you don't know shit about writing parts for a bass guitar!" 

Andy curled his lip. "Forgive me for trying to make your job easier. I  _do_ know shit about bass lines, guy, so why don't you calm the fuck down a sec?" The yelling from the two men had Joe climbing back in his bunk and Patrick rolling his eyes. Pete's temper was easily inflamed when people thought he couldn't do his thing. Patrick could often calm him down, but also, yelling it out could relieve stress. The singer left the two be. 

"You're trying to make  _my_ job easier? You think I can't do my job? Is that it, Hurley? Do you  _want_ to get punched?" Pete snarled, waving his hand. 

"I'm the drummer here, Wentz, I've got bigger arm muscles than you could ever  _dream_ of having. Think about the shit you say before you say it, asshole." 

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too!"

The "fuck you" battles continued until a real fistfight began in the kitchen of the tour bus. That's when Patrick decided to intervene. He dodged flying fists and got one straight in the nose from Andy. He could tell because in the split second the pain rushed in on him, he saw the middle finger tattoos. The punch was obviously meant for Pete, but it missed, that much was obvious. 

"Hey!" Pete barked, ducking under another punch and ran to Patrick. "Are you fucking insane? You fucking punched him, you dickhead!" Andy looked surprised. 

"Pat, I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked, trying to walk over but Pete stopped him. 

"You think he wants to talk to you after that?" He growled. 

"Yes," Patrick said, sighing. "It's okay, Andy, just a bit sore. I'll be okay." Andy looked relieved. Pete hissed under his breath, muttering something about  _piece of shit Hurley_ and  _Patrick could have been killed._ Patrick rolled his eyes. He got up and grabbed the bassist's wrist, pulling him towards his own bunk. When they arrived, he yanked the curtain over them. 

"The hell was that?" 

Pete suddenly felt cold. An angry Patrick was someone you never wanted to meet. 

"He tried to write my bass line..." Pete mumbled, feeling pathetic. 

"So he tried to help you. So your friend tried to help you, is it really that bad? He knows, Joe knows, I know better than anyone how well you do your job. I don't need a reminder, no one does. You're fucking insane, trying to start a fight over something you should at least pretend to be grateful for!" 

Pete hung his head. "I know." 

"And, Pete?" The bassist swung his head over to meet Patrick's gaze. 

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for making sure I was okay." 

"You're welcome. 

"Now go say sorry to Andy. I can't believe I'm like your tour bus mother." Patrick leaned in and kissed Pete on a whim. He'd never done that before.  

"Okay," Pete mumbled blushing bright pink. 

"We'll talk about it, okay?"

"Yeah," Pete agreed. "Thanks, Pat."

"No prob."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohmygod is this just going to be a book of requests but also my imagines? cause that'd be cool


	8. REQUESTING RULES

hi!! 

I'm Matty, (i_write_absolute_trash778) and my username is trash. Hi! * giggles self-consciously * You probably know by now the stuff I write if you're on this chapter already, so let's just skip it. 

_** Rules for Requesting:  ** _

\- I accept requests for the Emo Trinity and Twenty-One Pilots, as you probably know.

\- I don't accept requests for Baycest or Waycest (if you don't know what those are don't worry). If you do, don't ask, I will say no or just ignore the request. 

\- I accept requests for other bands and fandoms, I just have to know what they are. If they're not Emo Trinity or TØP, and I don't get to them, that could be a reason why.

\- I don't always get to requests as quickly as I would like to. Please be patient with me! 

 

 

okay that's it with my self-indulgent bullshit. byee! 

 

EDIT:

P.S. I HAVE A TUMBLR NOW! I'll be posting Frerard shit and just randomness, as well as links to my fanfics. [My Tumblr!! * Click *](https://psychedelicharlequin.tumblr.com/)

 

 


	9. stay. (pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh is the senior bright bubble gum hair colored captain of the soccer team, one of the most popular kids at Lake Point High School. He's set to play the biggest game of the soccer season against Bear Valley High next week, but something- rather, someone, is distracting him, whether they know it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Warnings: blowjobs, implied smut, kissing  
> AU: high school au

Josh Dun had barely, if ever, known failure. 

He had been the best at everything he'd ever attempted since he'd been a kid, and he was proud of it. He was subsequently the king of his middle school, and his first year of high school was only okay until the soccer team found him. Then he'd skyrocketed to the top kid in school, and the best soccer player to boot. By his sophomore year, he'd become the captain of the team, where he was now. But he was also a straight-A student, and most of his teachers enjoyed him in their classes. His friends, he couldn't say the same for them. And he had also been very open about his sexuality, but because of his prowess at soccer, the bullies fell away, and became his close friends. 

One thing he'd never been good at was keeping romantic interests around. He had to feel this, this  _spark,_ this connection with them, and he never had. He'd gone out with the notorious fuckboy Pete Wentz for maybe a week before Pete's interests moved elsewhere, to the chubby nerd, Patrick. Josh only knew Patrick's name because Pete talked about him a lot. Josh teased him, calling them a OTP, because he knew they were.

But today he couldn't worry about these things. He had soccer practice, and if he was going to start in next week's game against Bear Valley High, he was going to have to work his ass off. He ran to the locker room, yanking off his shirt as he did so. Some stragglers from 7th period were still changing, so heads quickly turned to see the shirtless captain of the soccer team. Out of the corner of his eye, as he pulled on his jersey, he saw a boy, at least a junior, but Josh wouldn't be surprised if they were a sophomore- with brown fluffy hair and pale skin, wearing a plain white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, tight to the point where they fit the exact curves of his thighs. Josh averted his eyes quickly, not wanted to pop an unexpected boner IN THE MIDDLE OF PRACTICE. 

The boy caught his eye before he looked away, a light pink blush dusting the tops of his high cheekbones. He grabbed his backpack from the wooden bench facing his locker, and quickly left the locker room. Josh began changing again, thinking of what the boy's porcelain skin would feel like, taste like, under his tongue. He shook his head, feeling his dick stiffen. He splashed some water on himself from his water bottle, killing his boner. A sigh of relief escaped him. Good. He wouldn't be the object of laughter for this today. And so Josh ran out of the locker room. Even with the distraction, he'd been the first one out of the locker room, like always. Coach Miller grinned at him.

"Nice day for a practice, eh, Dun?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure is," Josh replied, smiling a bit. He really enjoyed this sport. 

His friend, Mark, raced out of the locker room and skidded to a halt, wearing a shit-eating smirk. The coach left them alone and checked their names off on the attendance sheet. 

"Josh, my dude!" he crowed, obviously excited about something. 

"Hey, Mark." the pink haired boy said.

"I saw this little kid, like sophomore maybe," he said. "He was- shit, Josh- he was perfect. Just the skinniest little bastard. Fucking perfect." 

"Language!" Miller snapped, before checking a few more names off the roster.

"Sorry, Coach," Mark apologized, winking at Josh. 

"What, are you in love with him or something?" Josh joked, but inside he also felt a bit jealous. He'd set eyes on this kid first, right? He was Josh's alone. Then he shook his head, clearing away those thoughts. Why did he matter? 

Mark smirked again. "I just might be. Again, he's goddamn perfect." 

Practice started, and just as it did, Josh looked up at the bleachers, where kids sometimes stayed to watch practices being held. His eyes swept the stands until they landed on  _him._ The kid from the locker room. Josh blushed, hurrying over to the coach, who was giving directions. Then he made a split second decision. This kid was here for a show, right? Well, he would get one, Josh decided. 

As the team ran laps around the field, Josh ran faster than usual, basically upstaging everyone else. Mark smirked, he knew exactly what was going on. And when they did drills, Josh gave it everything he had, knowing that the boy who was watching had to be impressed by his skills. And after the warm-ups and drills, they did a scrimmage, in which the team was split in two, and Josh headed one team, and Mark the other. Josh almost lost himself in the game, playing the game to the best of his ability. 

The practice was over much sooner than Josh had originally thought, but when he looked up again at the bleachers, the kid was gone. Damn. 

 

 

Tyler Joseph was only at that soccer practice because his friend Mark had asked him to. And because Tyler was a pushover, he said he'd go. He had gym 7th period, so it was convenient if nothing else. But what he hadn't been expecting was a hot soccer player to come busting in and take off his shirt  _before opening his fucking locker like he couldn't have just fucking waited like a normal person._ He'd had bright pink hair and muscles like you wouldn't fucking believe. And Tyler, being the  _jackass_ that he was, fell for him immediately. 

Tyler also knew that this was a jock. A soccer kid who would never know his name, much less fall for him too. And that thought made Tyler's heart sink. But he went out and sat on the cold metal bleachers, the cold fall wind cutting through his thin hoodie and straight to his skin, the cold from the metal freezing his thighs. He saw the pink-haired boy go flying around the soccer field, and almost envied his ability to do shit right. 

Finally, he couldn't take it, so when both Mark and the other boy weren't facing him, he got up and walked out. 

 

 

Four days had passed since Monday's practice, but Josh hadn't seen the mystery boy around anywhere, not even at lunch. With each day that passed, Josh became more fixated on finding this boy and making him his boyfriend. Mark teased him the whole time. But Josh was now currently fixated on getting to math class before the tardy bell. He slid into his seat in the way back just as the bell began to ring. As he looked up from fishing his homework from his notebook, he saw the boy standing at the front of the room next to the teacher, Miss Jackson. It was  _him._ The kid from the locker room. Josh immediately perked up, and when  the teacher asked who wanted to be his partner for the group activity, Josh's hand was the first to shoot up. Miss Jackson, looking taken aback, assigned them together. She then clapped her hands, telling everyone else to pair up. The boy made his way over to Josh, a light blush not unlike the one four days earlier spotted across his cheekbones. 

"I'm Tyler," he stuttered, looking embarrassed. Josh gave him his most winning smile, hoping it eased him.

"I'm Josh," he replied. "Shall we get started?" 

Tyler fiddled with the corner of his notebook. "Okay." 

So the twosome began to work, pushing their way through the problems, with Josh stumbling a bit, and Tyler helping him, even breathing this laugh that Josh kept and treasured in his mind to remember on darker days. Tyler was just precious, the way his nose would twitch whenever Josh's breath hit his face, and the way he would nervously laugh at most things Josh said. The time flew by too quickly, and Josh found that Tyler had chorus sixth period, so he walked Tyler over. It made him late for science, but he didn't care. He just felt butterflies in his stomach whenever Tyler was near him. 

"You want to come to the big soccer game? I'm playing in it, you know, and I think you'd like it," he suggested. Tyler blushed.

"You would want me there?"

"Of course, man!" Josh grinned. Tyler gave him a small smile. 

"Sure."

Josh couldn't have felt happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realized I haven't updated this in such awhile with Sentient Beings and Devil's Home being my main focus fic-wise. Hope you enjoyed, make some requests!!


	10. Partners (Josh/Tyler)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ripped straight from my Wattpad oneshot book!

Josh had been thinking about  _him_ all day. 

Who, you may ask? This kid in his math class. He had just switched into Mr. Johnson's class from Ms. Black's, apparently, and he was fucking gorgeous. Josh had watched the back of his head for ages, purely out of boredom, but then the kid had turned around and  _holy shit._

He'd been wearing a plain black t-shirt and black jeans, topped off with a pair of black Converse sneakers. Had it been anyone else, Josh wouldn't have thought they could pull it off as well as this kid had. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and peach colored lips that practically begged Josh to kiss them. His heart was practically out of his chest. As was his dick out of his pants. 

As the class continued, Josh learned from his big-mouthed friend, Hayley, that his name was Tyler Joseph, and that he was in the grade below Josh and Hayley. Tyler Joseph. The name sounded perfect.  _Perfect._ Funny, he'd never thought of a name that way before. Then again, he hadn't felt this way about a person before, so it wasn't exactly even ground for him. 

He heard Hayley giggle faintly in the background of his teeming thoughts. He looked over at his orange-haired friend. She pointed at his obvious excitement, and he blushed, the bright color spreading across his cheeks. After this, he was totally making a bathroom pit stop. 

"Alright, everyone. Today's activity requires you to work in groups of three. So find two other people- No, Maya, you may not have more than three people in your group- and come to me so that you can retrieve your papers," Mr. Johnson said, and sat down at his desk, watching kids get up and move about the room to get partners. 

Josh and Hayley stood up. They were partners on autopilot. What better partner than your best friend? Josh took a look about the room to see who paired with who, and caught Tyler Joseph's eye. The boy was standing beside his desk, looking around at anyone who could be a potential partner of his. Josh waved him over to them. He looked unsure of himself, but moved over to them. 

"Hi," he said, and the fact that his voice was way higher than Josh's made his knees lock. 

"Hey," he said, and grinned. "You don't look like you have a group, and we're one person short. You wanna work with us?" Tyler smiled a bit. 

"Sure," he said, and sat down in front of Hayley. He spun around to face the other two as they sat down, and Hayley grinned. 

"I'm Hayley, and this is my bestie Josh," she says. "We're not great at math, but hey, at least we pass." Tyler laughed.  

"Hi," Josh said, smiling. 

"Hey," Tyler blushed as Josh grinned at him. He was an adorable little thing, Josh just wanted to kiss him right then and there. 

Hayley starts reading the question. Tyler leans in to hear, but Josh is gone, lost in his thoughts of Tyler. "Tom is painting a fence 100 feet long. If he recruits his friend Huck and they each paint at a pace of 2 feet of fence per 5 minutes, how..." 

*** TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY A LAZY AUTHOR WHO NEEDS REQUESTS FOR THIS SHITTY THING! ***

It was another two periods without Tyler or Hayley until lunch, and Josh slogged through them. It was pure boredom. Torture. Like the teachers didn't care enough to actually make the lessons interesting. To sum it up, Josh learned next to nothing for the next two and a half hours. 

The bell rang, shrill in his ears, and Josh took out his earbuds and grabbed his binder, knocking people over in his hurry. But honestly, he couldn't care less. He just wanted food and to talk to his friends. Well, the one (two, was Tyler his friend?) friend he had. 

He threw his binder at the lunch table. It fell and hit the ground with a loud  _thud_ , but he ran to the lunch line and wedged himself right in front. There was some pushing, but in the end no one bothered to tell him to move to the back. Progress, right? 

Once Josh got through the line, carrying a cardboard tray of mush that could barely be called food, he sat down. Hayley had invited Tyler, so it seemed, and his day seemed a bit better. Pretty boy was there, that was enough. He plopped his tray down and grinned at them both. 

"So I take it you're fine with a newcomer?" Hayley smirked. 

"Fine," Josh mumbled through a mouthful of mystery mush. Hayley laughed, and Tyler did too, just a small giggle that Josh fell in love with. 

They spent most of that lunch period laughing and joking around, and generally getting to know Tyler. He had a sister, a cat named Callie, and he lived a few streets down from Josh. Not too far away. Trouble had a talent for striking at the worst times, so it did that period, of course. 

"Look at the new kid, sitting with the fags. Hope it's not contagious," laughed a dark-haired boy who was walking past the table. "Wonder if we can catch Dun here and this queer bitch making out after school." He was Ryan Ross, and Josh knew that his first name was actually George, but most people didn't. He knew, and that was one of the many varied reasons that Ryan hated him. Ryan was currently fucking around with one of Josh's buddies, Brendon. Josh wanted to tell Brendon not to trust Ryan, but it didn't seem to be his business. Plus Ryan had told him he'd get beaten up behind the school again if he tipped Brendon off that Ryan was only fucking around. 

So, neither liked the other. 

Ryan's "henchman" and best friend, Pete Wentz, laughed along. "New kid's a fag too then! Guess we better teach him what happens to fags around here." 

"You're not gonna do a damn thing." Josh was on his feet before he realized it was happening. "You think it's funny to pull shit with me and Hayley and God knows who else, and we take it, but you're not going to do it to him." 

"Better watch it, you little fucktard, or I'll spill that you  _like_ this little twink," Ryan snarled, obviously ready to knock some heads together. 

"Maybe you better not touch him or I'll tell the whole school how," he leaned in so Hayley and Tyler couldn't hear, only Ryan and Pete. "How you and Brendon fuck in the toilets between periods and just before lunch ends- Oh look! You've got ten minutes, Ryan. Better go get that dick." Pete had to pull an enraged Ryan out of the lunchroom as Josh sat down. 

"That was fuckin'  _rad_ , dude!" Hayley cheered, flipping her orange hair. 

"Thanks," Tyler said, almost whispering. 

"No problem," Josh replied, looking at the perfect boy. 

"Let me pay you back." 

And, right in front of Hayley, and the whole cafeteria, Tyler placed his lips on Josh's, and some people cheered, some people booed, but in the end Josh was just happy that Tyler was kissing him. Tyler was  _kissing him!_

It felt perfect. It was chaste, but that didn't bother Josh. He only smiled into the kiss and leaned his forehead to Tyler's when they were finished. 

"I'll pay  _you_ next time," he promised, and Tyler smiled. 

"But of course." 


	11. buttsecks (Ryan/Brendon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RIPPED FROM MY WATTPAD AND ITS SO CRACKY I STG

ryain: hewwo mr forhed 

dr forhed: dats doktur forhed to yu 

ryain: kk dadee

dr forhed: o its dadee now is it 

ryain: yes pls fuk me 

so dr forhed puts his 4 inch dik in ryain and ryain is not impressed. 

ryain: wow ur dik is rlly smwall 

dr forhed: u want it in u or no 

ryain: no its too smwall 

so then ryain went and got himself fukd on mr dallon giraffes big giraffe dik. goodnight 


	12. (Not) The Life Of The Party (Pete/Patrick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WATTPADDDDDDD

Fuck, Pete was  _hammered._

He'd been hammered before, completely wasted, but not like this. Never like this. He'd been at Brendon's party last night. It had been thrown completely on a whim, maybe because Ryan Ross was in town after being at his parents' house the whole summer. But Pete was too drunk to keep all that in his brain at once. 

One of the main reasons he had even agreed to come and show his face in public was that his girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, the blonde, beautiful Ashlee Simpson had dumped his ass earlier that day. According to her, they fought too much, and Ashlee didn't, and I quote, "Want to live with a depressed boyfriend with no social life." 

Ashlee had been Pete's world for about six months now. She had moved in two months ago and he hadn't even  _touched_ a beer since they became serious. She made him promise her his sobriety, and he kept that promise. Or, he had, until now. 

How many drinks had he downed since he rolled in an hour late? He only vaguely remembered, seeing as he couldn't remember anything but the pain, and his goal for tonight was to drown it out. Unlike past times at parties or clubs, or even gay bars, Pete wasn't looking for a quick grope, a one-night stand to forget about tomorrow. He was looking for a buzz, something to kill the hurt inside. 

Until he saw  _him._

That one guy who always stood out at a party. That one guy who obviously did not belong in the party scene, his friends had obviously dragged him here to get him a cheap hookup, though he didn't seem the type to even  _attempt_ to get a cheap hookup. Or  _be_ a cheap hookup, for that matter. He was wearing a maroon (red?) cardigan over a white button-down and blue jeans. His strawberry-blonde hair peeked out from under his black fedora, and  _God,_ his brown boots were everything. Pete had never known a nerdy-looking guy like that could look so pretty. 

Hopped up on cheap beer, Pete decided he'd go over and try to talk that guy into a blowjob. Was it a bad idea? Probably. Was he going to fail at it? Most likely. But right now his brain was focused on the guy with the black fedora in the back. How his plump, pink lips would look stretched around Pete's cock and- 

"Heeeeeey, Pete!" a drunken Brendon Urie bounced up to him, slurring his every word. "You see anybody you like?" He waggled his eyebrows and started giggling. So hilarious. Pete's sober enough to know not to giggle back, because once he and Brendon spent the whole night lying on a counter, laughing at each other's laughs until they fell asleep. A vicious cycle. 

But as soon as Pete looked away, however, Ryan had swung in and grabbed Brendon's hand, leading him to God knows where, probably for a quick fuck in the bathroom. This was a party, after all. He decided to go over to the guy in the back.

Pete being Pete, didn't do this without tripping over his own fucking feet. He landed in a heap in front of one of his best friends, Joe Trohman. Joe was one of Pete's oldest friends, but Pete hadn't seen him around much since he started dating Andy Hurley, one of the metal kids from high school. Pete was pretty sure Andy smoked weed, and while he'd never seen him do it before, with Joe as a boyfriend, you didn't get very far without getting drunk or high, or both if you were lucky.

"'Sup, Pete?" Joe cracked a grin, a lit joint in his hand. He helped Pete off the floor and, as a thank you, Pete grabbed the blunt and took a drag.

"Literally nothing. Like, I saw this guy I was gonna talk to and then I fell and here we are..." Pete trailed off, his eyes searching the crowd. He was gone.

Joe smirked. "What'd he look like?" Pete rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Pretty. He had a fedora, I think?" he mumbled, attempting to recall. It had only been a few moments before, but Pete was apparently doomed to a short-term memory loss while drunk. He took another drag.

"Oh, Patrick?" Joe asked. "Yeah, I convinced him to come with me and Andy! He's an amazing singer, and I know you're still wallowing over Ashlee-"

"She broke up with me today, Joe."

"Yeah, but come on! He'd be a great addition to the band since you can't seem to sing and play bass at the same time." Pete glared.

"At least I can sing, unlike you." Another drag. From behind Joe came a voice and Pete immediately lost his train of thought.

"Joe? I found Andy." Joe whirled around, facing the speaker. It was him! The adorable, fedora-wearing man that Pete had involuntarily given his heart to.

"Great!" Joe grinned. "Oh, let me introduce to-" he burped. "To Pete! Pete, this is Patrick, I was telling you about how good his voice is!"

"It's not that good." Pete could only stare.

"It is!" Joe argued, and Patrick rolled his eyes.

"I'm not usually this wrecked," Pete said, attempting to make a good first impression. He was very aware he was failing at it. 

"His girlfriend ditched him a couple hours ago," Joe said, bouncing around, as was his habit when he was out of it. 

"Oh, sorry," Patrick mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

"No, it's alright," Pete returned, feeling remarkably clear-headed. Then again, he hadn't had more than one beer. "She was a great girl, but we just weren't a good match." Inside, Pete wondered if he really believed what he was saying. 

"Um, okay. Yeah, I get it." 

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Pete decided to speak up. He was sober enough to drive but drunk enough to not control his mouth, and this sentence would be the result.

"You know, I came over 'cause I thought I would ask you to blow me." Patrick raised his eyebrows. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah," Pete said, feeling a tad stupid. 

"I might." 

Pete almost choked. 

"What?" He stammered, looking at Patrick. This innocent looking man, blow him? For real? 

"Yeah," Patrick said nonchalantly, glancing at his nails. "It'll cost you thirty bucks, though, just warning you." 

"What?" Pete was blown away. "You- You're a-" 

"A hooker? A whore? Yes. Yes I am," Patrick said sounding bored. He leaned against the bar. "You gonna pay me? I can blow you fast in the bathroom." 

"But you're gonna sing for our band." 

"It depends. Now do you want a blowjob or not?" 

He nodded quickly. "You said 30?" 

"Uh-huh." Patrick nodded, uncrossing his arms and moving away before Pete could finish giving him the money. He followed the younger man to the nearest bathroom. They quickly discovered it didn't have a lock. 

"We should find somewhere else," Pete said, looking at Patrick and the door handle simultaneously. 

"Nah, I'll blow you in here." 

"But anyone could walk in and see," Pete protested. 

"Don't you want that?" Patrick dropped to his knees. "Me sucking your cock when anyone could walk in and see you fucking my face? You want them all to know who's giving you a good time?" He smirked up at Pete through his lashes. Patrick was entirely in control. 

"P-Please," Pete groaned, unzipping his pants. Patrick smirked again, taking the $30 off of the grungy bathroom counter and shoving it in his pocket as Pete finished  fishing his dick out of his pants. His hands were trembling, so it wasn't an easy task.

He eventually managed it, however. 

Patrick immediately coaxed him to full hardness with his hand, licking his lips as he did so. He bent down and engulfed Pete's dick with his mouth. Pete's eyes rolled back in his head, the pleasure was euphoric. Patrick seemed not to have a gag reflex, and Pete knew it. His throat spasmed around the other man's cock, and Pete let out an embarrassingly loud moan. 

Patrick hummed, the vibrations traveling to make Pete's brain a frazzled mess. He came ridiculously fast as Patrick sucked hard enough for Pete to go flying. He let out another moan and then the other man was swallowing his cum, and Pete felt dizzy. 

"Thanks," Pete said, and Patrick smirked. 

"Anytime." The shorter man scribbled his number down on Pete's arm and waltzed out of the bathroom. 

Holy shit. 

 

 


	13. A Casual Affair (Waycest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd never write Waycest, but I got a dm on Wattpad and decided to put it up here. 
> 
> Warnings: sibling incest, anal sex, blowjobs. Overall vvv smutty. 
> 
> DONT LIKE DONT READ IS THE BOTTOM LINE.

It was a casual affair.

Mikey and Gerard would fool around when they had time, but never if the other was taken. While they were fooling around illegally, they always took significant others into consideration.

Mikey and Gerard had fucked before. Whenever their parents were out, on each other's birthdays, the middle of the night, at school. Anywhere they could, at any time they could.

Today, the boys' parents were out of town. It was a Saturday, and they wouldn't be back until Sunday night. And Mikey was determined to make the most of the days they had together.

He crept down the two flights of stairs to Gerard's room, essentially the basement. The other boy was asleep in his Batman pajamas. The freshman pulled down his senior brother's pants, he only stirred in his sleep. Mikey grinned as his brother's cock sprang free of his boxers. He licked a stripe up it, but Gerard still didn't stir.

So the younger boy wasted no time encasing Gerard's cock fully in his mouth. After so many times with the boy, Mikey had lost his gag reflex. He took all of his meat and bobbed up and down. Gerard was awake now, and he grabbed Mikey's hair and forced him down.

"Yes, Mikey-" he gasped, bucking into his brother's mouth. But Mikey pulled off with a smirk.

"Not yet, big boy." He was naked, and already slicked up so he sank down onto Gerard's thick cock. "O-oh," Mikey moaned. No matter how many times they fucked, he could never get over the way Gee's cock could always split him open.

Mikey lifted his hips and slammed back down, both boys cried out in unison. He went faster as Gee moaned beneath him.

"You like that?" Mikey growled. "You like your little brother fucking himself on your big cock? Huh?" Gerard moaned again at his words.

"Mikes, oh- you're so tight- oh," Gerard threw his head back. "I'm gonna-" he shuddered violently as Mikey's hips stuttered. His dick pumped his load of hot cum into Mikey.

"Gee," Mikey moaned as he came. A fire burned in his abdomen and he collapsed next to Gerard.

"Give me-" Gerard panted. "Ten minutes and I'll wreck your ass again." Mikey smiled.

"Of course."


	14. Lovely (Josh/Brendon/Tyler)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pwp fic concerning Josh, Brendon and Tyler! (Smut!!) 
> 
> This was requested by Sp00k1eJ1m !!

  
"Now you remember the safeword, love?" Brendon ran his hand down Josh's cheek. The red-haired man beneath him nodded.

"Roses."

"Good boy." He secured Josh's last limb to the bedpost and stepped back to admire his work.

"He ready?" Tyler asked, stepping into the room. He held a vibrator and its remote in one hand, and a bottle of lotion in the other. He set the items down on the nightstand.

"Yeah," Brendon said, a challenging glint on his eye. Tyler glared and stepped closer to the pair. He grabbed a fistful of Brendon's hair and slammed his lips to the other boy's. Their tongues fought for dominance, Brendon's eventually pushing Tyler down.

Josh let out a moan at that, causing the two brown-haired boys to break apart.

Tyler smirked. "Aw, do you wanna feel good too, babe?" He whined and nodded.

"Please, Tyler, I-"

"What have we told you?" Brendon said, tugging Josh's hair.

"I'm sorry, sir," he gasped as Brendon tugged harder.

"So what do you want us to do to you?"

"We might not even listen," Tyler grinned.

"Want you to touch me, sir," and Josh wasn't sure which man he was addressing.

"Where do you want to be touched, slut? Be specific," Brendon ordered.

"Please," Josh begged. "Touch me, anywhere."

"Anywhere, he says." Tyler laughed and walked to the side of the bed. He leaned down and began kissing and sucking down Josh's neck to his collarbone. Brendon crossed over to the other side of the bed and kissed him hungrily.

He gasped into Brendon's kiss, and the other man chuckled. Tyler was now sucking on one of Josh's nipples, and Brendon seized the opportunity and began to touch the other. Josh moaned at this.

Tyler moved down, humming as he licked across Josh's tanned stomach towards his upright cock. Josh groaned and lifted his head to see Tyler avoid his cock completely. Instead the other man nipped at his outer thighs, breath ghosting his cock.

He moved down to Josh's hole, licking at the opening and slowly inserting his tongue. Josh moaned and tried to roll his hips closer to Tyler, but the ropes holding his legs made it hard to get any friction.

Meanwhile, Brendon was dangerously close to his dick as well, planting soft, breathy kisses to the shaft. He licked a wide stripe up Josh's cock, and he moaned, panting, begging for more.

Tyler moved away, uncapping the bottle of lube on the dresser and coating his fingers. He crawled back between Josh's legs and worked a finger slowly in up until the second knuckle. At this intrusion Josh whined, seeking more friction. Tyler laughed.

"You see this, Bren? He likes this." Brendon laughed.

"Put another one in. Prep him for me," he said, knowing Tyler wouldn't approve.

"Who fucking said you'd get to fuck him this time?"

"Fuck, fine. We'll both fuck him. Happy now?"

Tyler grinned wickedly. "Yes." To Josh he said, "We're going to see how many times you can come for us, okay darling?" Josh nodded. He loved coming more than once.

Tyler picked up the vibrator and held it as he worked another slick finger in. He edged Josh's prostate and watched the younger man's face twist in pleasure. He took out his fingers and Josh whined at the loss of contact.

"Relax, babe," Tyler laughed and coated the vibrator with lube before pressing the tip against the red-haired boy's hole. He shivered.

By this time he was really close to coming, so when Brendon took all of his cock into his mouth, he spasmed and cried out their names. Brendon stroked his dick to keep it hard for round two, as Tyler slid the vibrator into Josh's hole inch by inch.

When it was fully inside him, it nudged against his prostate and he almost came again.

"Come on, Joshie, can you come again for us?" Brendon murmured, licking up Josh's cum.

He keened quietly, bucking into the vibrator. Tyler smirked at Brendon and handed him the remote.

"Thank you, love," he said and flicked the switch upwards to the first setting. The vibrator turned on, making Josh squeal in surprise. He moaned as Brendon hitched it up another notch.

Tyler fished his cock out of his pants and stroked himself, watching Brendon play with the settings on the remote like a kid on Christmas Day. He bit his lip and the other man noticed.

Setting down the remote (on the second-highest setting, mind you), Brendon walked around the bed to Tyler and got on his knees, pushing his hand away. He began to repeat what he did to Josh, licking and sucking on Tyler's cock.

Tyler buried his hands in Brendon's hair. Brendon locked eyes with him, which somehow made it even more hot. His lips wrapped around Tyler's dick looked positively sinful.

"Bren- fuck. I'm gonna-" Brendon pulled off him with a wet pop.

"Hold it, Tyler. Don't you wanna come in our little boy?"

"Yeah, yeah," he panted. They walked over to the bed where Josh had climaxed again. Tyler took out the vibrator, chuckling at Josh's tired whine.

"Just one more, baby," Tyler reassured him.

"Maybe two," Brendon said wickedly, and Tyler laughed. They climbed on the bed, and Tyler positioned himself at Josh's hole first. Brendon slicked himself as he positioned himself at Josh's mouth.

"You're not going to fuck him?" Tyler asked as if Josh wasn't even there.

"'Course I am. Just want him to slick up my cock first." He laughed.

Tyler pushed in, hissing at how tight Josh was, it was like fucking a vice. Josh cried out, tugging at his restraints before Brendon silenced him with his cock.

"Not too long, Brendon. I want to hear his pretty voice."

Tyler went deeper, finding Josh's prostate again and hitting it repeatedly, rolling his hips expertly.

Brendon took his dick out of Josh's mouth and spoke. "Save it, Joseph. We're gonna cum all over him. You want that, Joshie?"

Josh whined and nodded feverishly. Tyler worked them both to the edge and slid out, allowing Brendon entrance. Brendon slammed into Josh, as Tyler watched as the two boys went at it.

Brendon stepped back and jerked his cock over Josh, motioning for Tyler to do the same. He did and together they covered Josh in strings of hot white cum.

Brendon undid Josh's restraints as Tyler got the aftercare equipment from the bathroom. They wiped the worst of the mess off the bed and Brendon massaged Josh's wrists. Then they shared a deep, intimate three-way kiss (difficult, but not impossible!).

"Thank you," Josh whispered.

"Anytime, baby boy," Tyler said, kissing his forehead. Brendon nodded and he climbed into the bed next to Josh. Tyler slid in on the other side. Together they drifted off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requestssss make my centuryyyyy (centuries amirite)

**Author's Note:**

> Requests please!!


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